The Year Was 1624
by YaoiIsLove
Summary: AU. To lay with another man is a crime against god. He knew this, and he knew he would not allow himself to be charmed by young lord Anderson under the ruse of being a maiden.
1. Chapter 1

Title: The Year Was 1624

Rating: PG

Pairing: Kurt/Blaine, mentioning of others

Warnings: Cross-dressing, underage children, religious themes

Status: WIP

Summary: AU. To lay with another man is a crime against god. He knew this, and he knew he would not allow himself to be charmed by young lord Anderson under the ruse of being a maiden.

Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing, but I still dream daily that I do.

The Year Was 1624

The lady-in-waiting struggled with her young ward as the young boy tried to escape. "I do not wish to wear bloomers," he protested, hopping upon his bed pulling the four poster shut.

"Please, young master, it is the lord's wish."

"Do I carry the appearance of a maiden?" The woman sighed, shaking her head in the negative. "Then I will not dress as one."

"Young master, please, do you wish me no longer in this situation? If so I can speak with Master Hummel and I'm sure he can arrange a new situation."

The young boy sat on his rear-end, crossing his arms over his bare chest. "For father's sake I will represent myself as a female."

"Thank you, young master," she sighed, kneeling in front of him to dress him in the bloomers.

It was not normal for a boy of 10 wearing an elegant dress but circumstances called for this measure. After the passing of Lord Hummel's first wife leaving him baron, he was left to care for his son alone. However, a noble lady had caught his sight and he wish to court her properly, perhaps give his son a mother. The lady Hudson too was a widow and had a son of her own. Lord Hummel would not take chances and therefore took precautionary measures to dress his son as a young lady.

"To your feet."

The boy hoped up, lifting up his arm into the air to allow her to lower the thick dress over him. The skirts fell in thick layers around him, the bodice loose around his chest, the sleeves tight to his arms. He turned upon his lady-in-waiting's orders, her fingers working nimbly to tighten the strings of bodice. "That hurts," he hissed, touching his stomach as the clothing became increasingly tighter.

"I apologize, but it must be tight."

Suddenly he felt much sympathy for the young ladies of the court; this was not comfortable in the least.

Once the task was completed he was tapped to the mirror. He grimaced at the feminine clothing of yellow and white, but this was the fashion of the century, or at least that he knew of.

"Is Kurt ready?" Lord Hummel asked from beyond the door.

"You may enter," Kurt called to his father, his hair being pulled painfully back to accommodate a net.

The wooden door creaked opened, the old metal hinges creaking their protest. Heeled loafers clicked loudly against the stone floors, coming to a stop just behind the two occupants. "You look stunning Kurt."

"I do not feel so. I feel as a fool. Father, must I hold this appearance," he pleaded to his father. Unlike his father he did not pull at the ruffles of his doublet, nor pick at the buttons of his cuffs. Kurt was quite at home and the clothing of nobility and loved flaunting it about their home. His father had always been more suited to the peasantry wear from which he was born.

"Kurt, the Baroness Hudson also bore a son."

"So you wish to hide me lest she turn down your courtship?"

"You professed to me no more than a fortnight ago that you feel drawn to young boys such as yourself. Does this appearance not please this choice?"

"I professed to you father for I was scared, but it's not a choice. I can not stop it."

"You are but 10, you will grown to understand and perhaps except the betrothal Lady Pierce has so kindly offered. The hand of her eldest daughter in hopes to improve upon our holdings. It's a fine offer."

"But one I wish to refuse. Father, I do not know of the ailment that has over taken me, but I tell you this it was no choice. Perhaps it was a curse from god if the being we worship is such a benevolent being and not the devil himself."

"You will not speak such blasphemy in this home, Kurt," Lord Hummel ordered, attempting to keep his tone level. "I do love you son, but you must understand…."

"To lay with another man is sin against god and punishable by death. May god save your soul from the eternal damnation you will endure for man is not meant to lay with man," Kurt recited, having heard this speech in a sermon. The priest like to repeat messages when he felt someone was drifting to the darkness. Yet, Kurt was left wondering, did the benevolent god they spoke of truly exist. If he was truly benevolent why would he curse the ones he love.

"The carriage awaits, no further will this be discussed, understood?"

"Yes, father," Kurt agreed, picking up his skirts and following his father out of their home.

-o-o-o-

As they entered the court gardens Kurt was left wondering further on his predicament. It was a crime to dress above one's station, it was a crime to lay with another man, would that not mean it was a crime to dress as a woman? Even at masques it would not be permissible for a man to hide behind the face of a woman. What if he was to become known?

"Ah, Lord Hummel, I have traveled a great length to meet you," a boisterous English man greeted. The man was Kurt's father's height, his head full of lustrous brown hair, that also found residence under his nostrils. His clothes spoke of his nobility for him as he spoke of his holdings with Lord Hummel, but Kurt found the color of his tailcoat to be quite unflattering. "Ah, but I have forgotten my manors. May in introduce my children," he announced, bringing the three children forward. "This is my eldest son Stephen."

Stephen gave a quick bow before rising and holding his hand out to Lord Hummel. "It is a pleasure."

Kurt rolled his eyes, kicking a pebble atop the cobblestone. He had grown weary of these meetings. His father would chat about land and holdings and would then roll into tennis or whichever sport caught his fancy.

"This is Blaine," the man continued, placing his hand upon his middle child's shoulder. As his elder brother did, Blaine bowed, but he did not reach for Lord Hummel's hand instead he turned to Kurt, taking his hand and kissing the back. Kurt's eyes met the other boy's instantly, his face no doubt turning to rose.

"It would not be proper to ignore a young lady," he smiled, pulling a rose from a bush and holding it out to him. Kurt took it, holding it to his face and hoping it helped to hide his blush.

"Seems I have forgotten my own etiquette. This is my daughter, Elizabeth," Lord Hummel introduced.

"Elizabeth," Blaine whispered, his brown eyes finding Kurt's own. "Consecrated to God, a beautiful name."

Kurt blinked, eyes fixed on the boy his own age in front of him. A dark curl danced against his forehead, his hair undoubtedly unruly outside of court gatherings. "A-And Blaine means…."

"Nothing special, I assure you," he smiled, releasing Kurt's hand and returning to his position aside his brother. Blaine's father chuckled, making a quip about a possible betrothal between the two. "Perhaps this meeting was predestined," Blaine smiled.

"And my youngest," Blaine's father continued, smiling broadly. The girl at his side curtsy politely as her father declared her name to be 'Maria'.

"If you will excuse me, Lord Anderson, I see Baroness Hudson and wish to offer courtship."

"By all means," he nodded. "But perhaps, Blaine can escort Elizabeth for a stroll along the gardens?"

Lord Hummel was hesitant for a moment to allow it, then again if he did not Lord Anderson could suspect something is afoot. "But of course," he agreed.

Blaine's face lit up as he stepped forward, holding his arm in the direction of the gardens. "My lady."

Kurt looked to his father briefly, before picking up his skirts and walking across the cobblestone towards the gardens. One common knowledge of the queen was her love for floral. The courtyard, in which they now stood, was adorned in rose bushes of many variety and were often where meetings such as this one took place.

Blaine came in step beside Kurt, smiling to the boy as they descended the stairs to the vast palace gardens. Other couples were scattered upon the garden, chatting politely with each other. Some commenting on the fine ten foot long fountain adorned with Greek sculptures, water lilies floating upon the crystal water. This was where Kurt led Blaine to, the gravel beneath his feet crunching. Water swooshed as it moved in the light wind, Kurt's eyes drawn to the lilies as they went up in down in smooth waves.

"Quite enchanting," Blaine commented.

"I agree," Kurt nodded, thankful for once his voice would not give away his sex. "The queen has excellent taste."

"I was not referring to the lilies."

Kurt caught himself as he stumbled over his own feet. This boy was almost to charming, to dapper, to be true. Kurt had never met a man of the court like this, and he had met several.

"I mean not to be offensive, Lady Elizabeth, but what is your age?"

"10," he answered in a whisper.

"Ah, then I am two years your senior. Father is eager to find me a betrothed, as my elder brother is already betrothed to Lady Lopez of Spain. But the gossip is, Lady Lopez is quite cavalier for her age, being only 16 years. From what I can gather she's had frequent visits with a peasant boy by the name of Noah. Oh, I apologize, my mouth has run away."

"No," Kurt smiled. "I'm happy to see you're not all manners. I happen to like jumping on my bed."

"My how un-ladylike," Blaine smiled. "Perhaps you can visit my home and jump upon my bed. It is due for a good jumping."

"To invite a lady so boldly to your bed chamber, I am astonished."

"I mean not to offend."

"You have not," Kurt smiled, turning his attention back to the pond.

"I am glad. I would be most vexed to lose such a fine maiden's attention."

Kurt found himself blushing yet again at the other male's compliments. The feeling was fleeting, however, knowing the words would not be as sweet if Blaine knew he was wooing a man. Yes, Kurt had to remember he currently wore a mask; one that so easily fooled everyone. Ah, sweet cruel reality. "If you'll excuse me, young Lord Anderson, I believe I hear my father calling."

"Do wait," Blaine called, as Kurt turned to leave. "I wish to see you again."

"If the fates permit it, perhaps we will meet again," he answered, picking his skirts from the ground. Slowly he retreated back to the courtyard to seek out his father amongst the nobility.

Blaine looked down at his hand, the one that had touched Elizabeth's so delicately upon their first meeting just moments ago. He had met many maiden's carrying the same appearance as Lady Elizabeth. They were pristine, polished, their long hair tied in perfected knots; he'd grown use to this. As per his father's orders he was charming with each one, but the moment Elizabeth's delicate hand touched his own he knew. Lady Elizabeth was no maiden, and he was determined to see what lay beneath that façade.

-o-o-o-

"You will not see that boy again, understood?" Lord Hummel told his son as they sat for dinner.

Kurt stared down at his fish and corn dinner, poking at the kernels. He was not fond of corn but it was in season and therefore ripe for picking. "I had no intention to."

Lord Hummel nodded, sipping his wine. "Baroness Hudson has agreed to a courtship, and her son, Finn, is currently betrothed to Lord Fabray's youngest daughter. They are to marry in half a year."

"I understand, father."

"I understand you do not wish for a brother six years your senior but perhaps you can learn from him. If I am to wed Baroness Hudson and her son weds Lady Quinn, Kurt, I will allow you to live as you choose."

"What?"

"With a marriage on my behalf, and a strong marriage on Finn's, you are free to wed who you choose. You are free to live as a peasant if you so choose."

Kurt understood this was his father's way of coming to accept who his young son was becoming but Kurt would rather not be hanged for crimes against God. He may be a mere 10 but one could not play naïve in these times. "I will meet with Lady Brittany." He had a chance to wed by 16 and be normal as all in their country, and to make his father brim with pride.

"If you are sure, then I will arrange the meeting."

"I am sure, father," Kurt answered, allowing the maid to take his wooden dishes.

The proud smile that lit his father's face told him deciding to side with the church was the right path.

-chapter 1 end-


	2. Chapter 2

Title: The Year Was 1624

Rating: PG

Pairing: Kurt/Blaine, mentioning of others

Warnings: Cross-dressing, underage children, religious themes

Status: WIP

Summary: AU. To lay with another man is a crime against god. He knew this, and he knew he would not allow himself to be charmed by young lord Anderson under the ruse of being a maiden.

Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing, but I still dream daily that I do.

Author's Note: For those wondering about the eloquence in their speech for such young ages. I decided since the legal marriage age of the period was 12 for girls and 14 for boys there had to have been some level of maturity and eloquence in them, especially if they were raised in nobility. Also, I plan to make the chapters short so I can update more regularly. Thank you for reading!

The Year Was 1624

Ever since the passing of his wife, Elizabeth, Burt had worked hard to maintain their home. Unlike his wife, Burt had been born to peasants. It had been the fates that brought them together. Burt and his father had been at market hoping to sell some of their wares when Burt literally crashed into Elizabeth. Both teens had found themselves covered in cabbage and thoroughly berated. Things progressed quickly from there. Elizabeth returned to the market every week after to buy a cabbage. In a sense a silent type of courtship began and two years later found them married and Burt living the life of a Lord along side his lady wife.

Elizabeth bore him a son soon after their marriage, a son that never was introduced at court. Due to some blood irregularity Elizabeth only survived two days after the birth of her child. Burt swore to himself to care for the child the best he knew how, and made sure the boy was raised properly. Luckily as he grew Kurt took to all his lessons with elegance and poise. Despite never having a mother Kurt never lacked in female attention. The servants lavished him with affection, his governess doted upon him and made sure his education was above other children's, even teaching the child French.

Burt loved his son, truly and dearly but living in the world of nobility he learned that station was everything. Kurt had taken to a feminine nature, which was truly perplexing. It worried him that the boy would never wed due to his appearance, and thus began presenting him as a maiden. There, unfortunately, was no place for a boy who spoke as a female, or had delicate looks. It was far simpler than seeking out a bride for such a boy.

Thankfully, however, an old scullery maid told him of Lord Pierce seeking a courtship for his 8 year old daughter, Brittany. The man wished to have his daughter married by 14 to a house of wealth and despite Burt's meeting of a Baroness he decided it was the chance Kurt needed. From the gossip he had gathered the girl was quite dim, she would not realize how truly feminine Kurt was.

Since the boy was five Burt had introduced him at court as a female under his mother's name. A betrothal to the young lady Pierce would give Kurt the manhood he desired. Would give them both chances for a family they wanted.

"Father, do I look presentable?"

Burt looked his son over, surprised he took a simple look. Kurt wore simple riding pants, boots, and a loose white shirt, his hair pulled back in a simple ponytail at his nape. "You look dressed for a ride."

"Shall I add an overcoat?"

"I suppose not, this will be a simple casual meeting," Burt sighed, leading his son out to their carriage. The boy climbed in, sitting against the hard cushions of the wooden transportation, his father following. The door closed with a thud, a crack following as the horses were whipped into motion. Reaching into his pocket Kurt produced a small leather bound book, flipping it open to leisurely read.

"What is that?" Burt questioned.

"Works authored by Jean Louis Guez de Balzac. My governess says it is advanced for my age but would like to see what I can gather from it. Furthering my French studies, naturally."

"I see, and what else do you study?"

"The artistic works of Carvaggio, Claudio Monteverdi's Vespro della Beata Vergine, and even the studies of Galileo Galilei, in a objective setting of course," he answered, quite impressed at how intelligent he sounded.

"Galileo, I'd prefer the subject matter of that man be touched briefly in my home. But for such a young age you are well rounded, and you comprehend this information?"

"For the better part, father," Kurt answered.

The ride fell into a comfortable silence, wheels turning over hard rocks and soft dirt being the only sounds occupying the space. Every few seconds or so Kurt would give an inquisitive hum as he looked through his book trying to grasp the complex writings.

When they arrived, Kurt was left to abandoned his attempts at reading and to present himself properly. The door opened, the footman standing at arm waiting for Burt to exit. Kurt followed behind his father, stepping out onto the dirt outside the Lord Peirce's manor, the family and servants already awaiting their arrival.

The family, save for the father, was compromised of blonde women. The mother stood straight, her hands clasped delicately in front of her maroon skirt, her locks pulled back in a net, her breasts pushed high on her chest under her tight bodice. Her daughters were mirror images of her in blue and green. The youngest daughter stood like her mother, fidling with a ruby broche when she thought no one paid her heed. The eldest daughter shifted constantly, swaying on the spot, alternating between playing with her skirt and string of her bodice.

Lord Pierce stepped forward, bowing his brunette head briefly before reaching out and taking Lord Hummel's hand. He was taller than Burt if only by a few hairs, but much more round in his appearance. Like Burt he word the proper clothing of his station, doublet, vest, coat and all, he was obviously a proud man.

"Allow me to introduce my daughters, Brittany of the house of Pierce, and my youngest Jocelyn."

The two girls curtsied, Brittany wobbling on the spot making her father's brow twitch.

"Dear Brittany is but two years your son's junior, and I wish to see her married by 14."

Burt placed his hand upon Kurt's shoulder. "I recently have began courtship of Baroness Hudson, she has a son of her own who will wed soon. A marriage with Kurt and Lady Brittany may be beneficial for us both."

"I see, and who pray tell is Baroness Hudson's son to wed?"

"Lord Fabray's younger daughter, Quinn."

The Lord's green eyes became alight at the prospect. "Then we have much to discuss. Miranda, prepare the tea in the den."

A young maid bowed, rushing into the home. Lord Pierce motioned for them to enter his home, the servants scattering to return to their respective jobs. Burt gave Kurt a pat in Brittany's direction, the boy approaching her with a sigh.

She batted her eyes at him as he picked up her hand, kissing it softly. Her face lit up. "Your hands be soft."

Kurt's face immediately fell. "I apologize but may I request that you repeat yourself."

"I say your hands be soft. Soft as spun wool that be pulled from sheep."

Kurt searched around for help, but found none as everyone had returned their work. How was he meant to deal with a girl that spoke with the eloquence of a peasant?

-o-o-o-

"I wish to refuse the proposal," Kurt announced in the carriage.

"Why? Did you not find her beautiful?"

"She was that if only," Kurt answered. "She speaks with the slur of a peasant, and lacks complete enunciation. One would not believe she was born into nobility."

"Kurt, I understand Brittany is perhaps lacking in the area of studies, but she is a fine young lady."

"A lady of standing."

"That as well. It is a fine match, Kurt, and one I highly approve of."

His eyes wandered to the window, the passing trees almost becoming a blur. "If you so say, father."

-o-o-o-

"She is a sweet girl," Kurt told his governess as they walked through market. "But I do not see a future."

"How about with this Blaine you spoke of? You met him as Elizabeth, correct?" she questioned, turning the page in her lesson book.

"Oui. Which is precisely the reason I can not wed him. I am male and he is also male. He'd have me marched to the gallows the moment he found I am male."

"Or worse, shipped to the Americas," the women jest making her ward groan in dismay. "Due course, young lord."

Kurt smiled at her as they proceeded along the market, eyeing the wares as they passed. He stopped in front of a jewelry table, a broach of blue and silver catching his eye. Picking the broche up he eyed it critically. The jewel appeared to be a blue sapphire set in a silver winged design, there was little doubt in his mind it was fake, no one but the royal family wore jewels this fine.

"You have fine taste." Kurt stiffened at that voice, it seemed the fates were speaking. He turned to the dark haired boy he had met at court putting on a confident smile.

"My father has recently entered a courtship and wishes to dote upon her."

"I see, and he sends his son along to purchase a jewel."

"My father's eye is not as astute as my own."

"I apologize, as my manners have fled me. I am Blaine from the house of Anderson."

"Kurt from the house of Hummel."

"Hummel? Perchance are you related to Lady Elizabeth Hummel?"

"She is my cousin under the same house," he lied turning his attention to the broach in his hand.

"I had the pleasure of meeting her, she was a fine young woman. No doubt she will be ready for courtship in the matter of years, perhaps marriage."

"A Duke has asked to court her and she accepted," he answered, hoping his tone did not sound as bitter as it seemed. His governess coughed her amusement in her hand at his apparent jealously of himself.

"A Duke? That was rather-."

"She will be legal to wed in less than two years, and he was eager to take a bride. I will take this broche," Kurt decided, handing the jewel to the merchant to wrap.

Blaine looked down at the stand, watching Kurt's hands as he handed over his coins. Acting on impulse he grabbed the boy's right hand, startling the young lord visibly. "Just as I thought."

Kurt pulled his hand away, excepting his wrapped broche. "What is that, might I ask?"

"Your hands are soft," he stated, with a bright smile.

"I rub them with an homemade herbal treatment. My governess has a level of apothecary talent."

Blaine turned to the woman in question. "You use lavender, correct?"

"In fact I do, when it is available that is."

Kurt's eyes widened. "I apologize but I must be leaving." With that simple parting he took off as fast as allowed, his governess on his heels.

"It seems the fates favor us, Lady Elizabeth," Blaine mused, turning to find his valet.

-o-o-o-

Kurt huddled under his heavy duvets, refusing to come out of his room. He was terrified, more than terrified. Had young lord Anderson realized that he was, in fact, Elizabeth? Had he detected the hints of lavender when he kissed his hand upon their first meeting? The boy would not be able to know by touch alone would he?

The maid that came into his room to tend the fire looked upon her young master in worry. It was not her place to question, but she worried he was ill.

Kurt listened to his door creak close, before peeking out from under his covers and staring at the fire. Would young lord Anderson turn him in? Would he be stoned? Hobbled? Hanged? He was a mere child, did this mean the punishment fall upon his father?

Dear God in Heaven, what would become of them?

-o-o-o-

"As you requested, father, I will study abroad," Blaine informed his father. "The next two years, correct? In France?"

"I see you have decided to become cultured," his father said, quill moving quickly across his parchment. "Polished?"

"Yes, father, but in exchange, I wish to have the hand of Lady Elizabeth."

"Lord Hummel's young daughter?" Lord Anderson questioned with interest. Blaine nodded his head once in affirmation. "Then you will study abroad for three years, if this is the arrangement you seek."

"If this is the case, I wish to keep correspondence with Lady Elizabeth, I would be most displeased if she did not know my intentions."

"If she so wishes then this term is acceptable. I will have the carriage drawn and your things packed, you will leave when the sun breaches the horizon."

"As you wish father," Blaine bowed, turning on his heels and leaving his father's study. He truly hoped Lady Elizabeth would be open to correspondence. He would like to know once and for all if Lady Elizabeth and Lord Kurt were indeed the same person. How interesting things could be.

-chapter 2 end-


	3. Chapter 3

Title: The Year Was 1624

Rating: PG

Pairing: Kurt/Blaine, mentioning of others

Warnings: Cross-dressing, underage children, religious themes

Status: WIP

Summary: AU. To lay with another man is a crime against god. He knew this, and he knew he would not allow himself to be charmed by young lord Anderson under the ruse of being a maiden.

Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing, but I still dream daily that I do.

Author's Note: For those curious, despite the title, the story will progress past 1624 and the boys will age. So I promise there will be nothing inappropriate with young children. Also, this chapter is in Letter Writing format and I choose fonts I thought appropriate. Do enjoy!

The Year Was 1624

Lady Elizabeth

The sun is just beyond the horizon as I sit in the carriage. They are loading my trunk atop the roof as I begin this note. Father has arranged for my studies to be taken in the French countryside. Perhaps I will see Paris, but I have tell that they have been suffering a devastating sickness, perhaps it is best to avoid. Ah, but to the point of this letter. You have caught my eye Lady Elizabeth and I wish to court you upon my return. However, I recently spoke to your cousin, Kurt of the House of Hummel. He told me the most devastating news that you were to wed a duke. Dear lady, please do tell me this is false and I still have a chance at a courtship.

If I am being to forward you need not reply. I will take this as a formal rejection, but I would like to know more of you Lady Elizabeth.

Hoping for a favorable reply

Blaine Anderson

Kurt stared at the words scrawled across the parchment, smiling at the curves of young lord Anderson's calligraphy. He seemed to press hard upon the parchment leaving blotches hear and there, yet the calligraphy seemed to betray his dapper person. It was rather endearing.

When the messenger had arrived Kurt had been curious. His father had left to visit with Baroness Hudson, and he almost feared the letter was a summons but it was not a royal messenger that stood beyond the doors. The maid excepted the letter announcing it was addressed to Lady Elizabeth of the House of Hummel. Kurt knew it had to be for him, why would a letter for his mother be arriving at their home?

He opened the letter, breaking the seal, and reading it. Blaine wanted to court him? Court him! He didn't want to turn him in, he wished to court him? Why did this send such a thrill through him?

Either way, he sat at his desk, a single candle lit and dipped his quill into his ink well. Was he meant to reply as Lady Elizabeth? That would only be natural, would it not? Young lord Anderson had addressed the letter to his female persona. Taking a deep breath he place his quill tip to a fresh piece of parchment, thinking wisely of his words.

Young Lord Anderson

How fortunate of you to be studying in the French countryside. I have so wished to visit. France but my father does not share the same desire. You must tell me if you arrive at court and are fortunate enough to catch sight of His majesty, Louis XIII or even his regent.

I must say, you were misinformed. My dear cousin was quite confused in his information. I did have an offer of marriage from the Duke of Waverly, however, my father did not find the union to be beneficial. The Duke has since married another, a young woman from Denmark I believe.

If, Young Lord Anderson, you are to write me I shall respond. However, please do not take this as an acceptance of a courtship. You will need my father's permission for an official courting. I find our correspondence can be quite educating and do feel exhilarated at the prospect of having a correspondent in France.

Until your next Letter

Elizabeth Hummel

Blaine smiled at the large flowing letters of the person calling themselves Lady Elizabeth. If the young lord he met at market was indeed Lady Elizabeth then he was sure he could draw it out. Young lord Hummel seemed to hold a bitter tone for Lady Elizabeth. Perhaps they were different entities, twins perhaps? This is what Blaine wanted to find. But he had to be cautious of what he scribed. He could not reveal to much.

Lady Elizabeth

I was thrilled to arrive to my stays and find a response. I had the honor of viewing his majesty's consort from a distance. His majesty was away during our visit, my governess informs me that his majesty had a prior engagement with Cardinal Richelieu in hopes to intervene with the war. His consort is Austrian is she not? Well, we are to young to be concerning ourselves with politics. My father would encourage it but I do not find it interesting.

Ah, I wish to tell you of the accommodations. There are two young lords aside from myself staying at Mademoiselle Laurent's residence. We share one room about the size of a English manor's den. There are three stiff beds for each of us to rest and a single sheet atop the bed. The fire is well tended but on the nights it becomes brisk Mademoiselle Laurent will allow us a quilt. It is not accommodations suitable for nobility but it is what her limited Francs can afford. I will spare you the detailing of my housemates. One boy is a the son of a Baroness and quite unpleasant. The other is a silent boy from Denmark that spends his days scrawling away in a journal. But alas, if I am to be here for three years perhaps I should make their acquaintance properly.

My letter has become lengthy. I laugh at my eagerness to speak with you, Lady Elizabeth. My heart fluttered with hope upon reading your words. I hope I did not offend your cousin by asking of you, but I was truly curious. To know you are not betrothed nor married gives me hope.

When I return home I will approach your father and cordially ask for permission to court you, my lady. I would never dream of courting a fine lady through correspondence alone, but I wish to get to know you, and I feel as if reading your words, seeing your calligraphy it puts me closer to that peak. Even if you have nothing to say but 'good morrow' I do hope you continue to write me.

Eagerly awaiting

Blaine Anderson

Young Lord Anderson

The leaves have changed in their color, and have began to fall. The 11th anniversary of my birth approaches and father wishes to introduce me properly to the Baroness Hudson. Father has decided to have boar roasted for my dinner and I am thrilled. Normally our meats are chicken and hen, sometimes cattle when the meat is fresh and properly priced as father says.

If it is not crass I wish to know the appearance his majesty's consort held? Was she as beautiful of His majesty King James' consort? Ah, upon mentioning of his Majesty, it seems he has grown ill. Though they do not wish ill upon him, the court is alit with talk that his majesty's second issue, Charles I, will take the throne in his stead. Pardon me if I sound crass but do you perhaps remember the tragedy of King James' first issue? My studies recently covered the subject of Prince Henry, but I was quite young at his passing and briefly remember the sadness that over took our country. I apologize, it seems I have began talking of the monarchy myself. I realize we must sound much wiser than our age, but thus is the tome.

Speaking of eloquence, just two months prior I met the issue of a lord. She was the elder issue but she spoke as a wench. I thought it was in jest, but the girl was just improperly educated. Her father claims the girl caught sickness called measles, according to the doctor that examined her. He claims they prayed to God every day and night and soon she was healed. I know this may sound blasphemous, but I do not believe in miracles, if God truly performed such miracles why could he not save my mother?

It seems my letter as well have become quite full. I find you easy to scribe to, young lord Anderson. You were rather charming the first time I met your acquaintance, perhaps you should use that same charms to make acquaintance with your housemates. Also, I wish to assure you that no offense was taken by my cousin. He wishes you to know it was not envy that produced his lie. He was merely protecting my chastity.

I will wait for the day you return, young lord Anderson, it will be interesting to see what you find upon your return. Perhaps I will not be the young lady you so vaguely remember. But I am sure I will not forget your visage, for your letters give me a clear thought of you.

Awaiting your next letter

Elizabeth Hummel

Dearest Elizabeth

I apologize. It has been over a month's time since I have penned a letter to you. No, this is inaccurate. I have penned many but have not felt them adequate or perhaps inappropriate. You made my heart flutter with your words of my words giving you a clear image of me. I wish I could say the same of yours. My lady, do you happen to like lavender?

I feel as if we speak to much of our country, of the monarchy and not of ourselves. I wish to know more of you. My quill quivers as I pen these words hoping I do not cause you offense. You mentioned your mother in your last letter. The sadness those words portrayed told me so much of you my lady. In those words I wished to know more. Your distrust in God struck me hard but I confess I have felt a similar distrust in our lord as well. I believe this is human nature. I would not see stoned for questioning our Lord.

Ah, yes, as I have forgotten, I bid you a Happy Birth Anniversary. My own is mere days after the end of snow. I will be 13 years past the day of my own birth. I do hate to talk about France yet again, but the wet months are harsh and the food scarce. The maids work twice as hard to keep the fires crackling and Mademoiselle Laurent has granted us the use of quilts for the duration. Though of late Antoine, my housemate, has developed a cough. Mademoiselle Laurent had him brought to the den and we have not been allowed to speak with him.

I have just cleared my throat allowed, startling my housemate, but I feel as if I must steel myself. I wish to ask you questions, dearest Elizabeth, and I do hope you answer them. For my first I wish to inquiry if I have permission to ask you inquires?

Before I tilt my ink well and ruin this parchment I have one last request. I wish that you would simply call me Blaine. A title seems rather formal and I wish, hope, we can lose formalities with each other.

Thoroughly flushed

Blaine

Young Lord Blaine

I was rather melancholy having not received a reply. I thought perhaps I had done you offense. To see 'Dearest' in your letter, my heart thud with a thunderous roar. There are no words I can pen that properly purvey my emotions.

I bid you a Happy Birth Anniversary for I know not when this letter will reach you. I do hope you keep warm, the wet months have been cruel but no more than as usual. No one has caught ill and I continue my studies. Nothing of excitement has truly happened as of late, and I fear this will make my letter short. I do so love gossip.

You make me smile, Young Lord Blaine, your words so clearly give me the image of excitement. That you are so eager to speak with me I will answer anything you wish to ask.

Awaiting your questions

Elizabeth Hummel

Dearest Elizabeth

To know I caused such melancholy instills my own. This letter will be brief as we depart in the morrow to visit Versailles.

I wish to know the name of your favorite flower. Can you dance? Do you care for masques? Do you speak French?

In a hurry but still eagerly awaiting your reply

Blaine

Young Lord Blaine

If you are brief than I will follow in your stead.

My favorite flower, though rare, is an orchid.

I was taught to dance when I was but five.

I quite enjoy masques. Rather I enjoy seeing the elaborate masks.

I have been taught French by my governess.

Briefly stated

Elizabeth Hummel

Dearest Elizabeth

You made me jovial with that last reply. You are quite the snip, are you not? But I mean this in quite an endearing manner. You have incited a game, my lady, and I shall join you.

As you gave no response to this question I will ask again. Do you, my lady, favor lavender?

I'll give no ending note

Blaine

Blaine

I apologize for not replying sooner, but recently his majesty has passed and we have been visiting church to pray for his majesty. At least this is what I have been told.

Aside from this rather sad news I am happy to announce that my father will be wedding Baroness Hudson. Soon after my new step-brother will be wedding Lady Quinn from the house of Fabray. I am quite thrilled for my father as he has not seen happiness since my mother's passing. I will send you a follow-up letter with full details of the affair, for I admit I do fancy weddings. Speaking of fine affairs you never did answer my question concerning the Queen consort of France, therefore you own question will be left a mystery.

You, my lord, gave an ending note by not doing so.

Elizabeth Hummel

Elizabeth

I smile at your extravagant detail of your father's wedding, it seemed to be a fine affair. You will send me details of your brother's wedding as well, will you not? I so hope so if only to hear the joy in your words.

Though I must confess, the words of your last two letters seem to carry different voice. Perhaps it is merely my dreaming.

Now for your inquiry. Her Majesty Anna is quite a beautiful woman. The first moment I laid eyes upon her she wore a gown of blue and silver, lace of pearls adorning her neck, her elegant curls tight against her head. I am sure you could have described her dress much better than I. However, I can not compare which Queen consort is the superior beauty for when I left home Her Majesty Anne was the Queen consort. While I am saddened to hear of his majesty's passing, I know not who has become the Queen Consort to his Majesty Charles I.

I have answered, now if you would do me the honor.

Waiting anxiously, as per usual

Blaine

Dearest Blaine

Yes, I do like lavender.

Her majesty Henrietta Maria of France is the his majesty Charles I's Queen consort. No doubt you recognize this name.

Jesting your tone

Elizabeth

Elizabeth

You are vexed with me.

For the name of her majesty, I do indeed recognize the name. She is the youngest daughter of his majesty King Henry IV and her majesty Marie de Medici.

I can not tell, my lady, if your tone is one of vexation or merely jesting.

Adieu, mon ami

Blaine

Adieu, Young Lord Anderson.

Mon ami is used for male acquaintances.

Elizabeth

I am aware, Young Lord Kurt of the House of Hummel

Blaine

-chapter 3 end-


	4. Chapter 4

Title: The Year Was 1624

Rating: PG

Pairing: Kurt/Blaine, mentioning of others

Warnings: Underage children, religious themes

Status: WIP

Summary: AU. To lay with another man is a crime against god. He knew this, and he knew he would not allow himself to be charmed by young lord Anderson under the ruse of being a maiden.

Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing, but I still dream daily that I do.

The Year Was 1624

Kurt lay under his quilts staring at that letters masked in darkness. He did not wish to face the world outside of his room. He wished only to stare at Blaine's final words to him, the words that stated his name. Not Elizabeth, but his own.

"Kurt you must understand, the situation was becoming precarious," Burt tried, having entered his son's room to retrieve him for supper.

"I do not see it as you do, father. The young lord and I were merely having correspondence."

"I read those letters, and I see your face. You love this boy."

"I do not," Kurt denied, still refusing to surface from beneath his quilts.

"If not yet, it does seem you are arriving to this emotion."

"We are mere correspondences, father, nothing more. We speak of France, of home, we speak of the monarchs, nothing more," Kurt argued, hugging Blaine's letters to his chest.

"You will wed Lady Brittany, you comprehend this, do you not? You will not, you can not, love another man."

"He was an acquaintance, father," Kurt answered, surprised to feel water leaking from his eyes. "I do not wish to dine."

"I will inform Lady Carole that you are feeling un-well, but please understand, Kurt, it is best if you forget young Lord Anderson." With that Burt left his son's room, the wood door closing heavily into place.

Kurt pushed his quilts off, hurrying to his desk and pulling a piece of parchment out. He looked at his short candle, knowing he would need another soon. Pulling out his special rarely used peacock quill he dipped the tip into his ink well The end found his paper.

Dearest Blaine

Kurt shook his head in the negative scratching the words out. It would not be appropriates to start this letter thus. With a deep steady breath he closed his eyes and let the words flow naturally.

-o-o-o-

Blaine blinked in surprise when a messenger came with a letter addressed to him. It had been three months since his last from Lady Elizabeth, or rather young lord Kurt, yet during the dry months the fates had spoke again. A letter addressed to him in Kurt's familiar looped calligraphy. Breaking the seal he closed his eyes for a brief moment before extracting the letter and beginning to read.

Young Lord Anderson

It is now well into the dry months, many months past our last correspondence. I have grown fond of you, young lord Anderson and I felt you grown fond of me. During our short lasted correspondence I felt quite jovial. I felt as if I had a fate that lay beyond what my father was wanting.

I wish to inform you that you have been deceived. I am not who I claim to be. As you have gathered my true face is that of a male. My name is Kurt Hummel, only son and issue of Burt Hummel and Elizabeth Hummel, my mother. My appearance has always been rather feminine, and my voice higher tone as you have heard. On the verse, my father is burly and strong much the opposite of myself and he had no knowledge on how to care for me. Since I was young he tried to teach me the proper etiquette of a young gentleman, he wished for me to be as dapper as you portray yourself. However, I did not take to the teachings. I was dainty and fragile, much like a maiden.

One night when I was but 8 I was made to wear a ladies chemise as clothes had not been washed. A small draught, I'm sure you remember, inhibited the servants from cleaning. When father saw my appearance he became alighted. The next day he ordered maids to the market to buy a fine dress. That Sabbath he had me introduced as his daughter Elizabeth Hummel. From then on, anyone in close quarters were the only aware that Kurt Hummel existed. I became a doll while my father searched for a dim young maiden to marry someone with my style. He has found such a maiden in Lady Brittany of the house of Pierce. Come the twelfth anniversary of my birth I will officially begin courting her. We will wed per my father's request when she is 12 herself.

My request of you, Young Lord Anderson, is that you have mercy upon me for my deception. I have no sinful attraction to men, I was simply following my father's instructions. With this letter I wish that we no longer speak with each other, and that this be forgotten. You were a kind acquaintance but the maiden you wished to court does not exist, nor will she again.

Cordially and finally

Kurt Elizabeth Hummel

Over the next two weeks Blaine read his letter repeatedly. He would stay up into darker hours of the night, looking over the looping scroll by his dwindling candle. Those words he found far more interesting than French verbs or the works of one Leonardo da Vinci who have visited France some hundred years ago. Blaine was mesmerized. The letters, the calligraphy were the same yet the voice was different. It was alluring, far more than the dainty words of Lady Elizabeth. His smile had widen when young lord Hummel had used his alias as an added name. Though the secret was no longer there for him to solve he so wished to speak more with the young lord.

-o-o-o-

Kurt tapped his egg with his fork cracking the shell, gently he pulled the hard protective layer off the boiled egg. One month ago he had sent a final letter to young lord Anderson against his father's wishes and had received no response. It had worried him briefly, but then he was elated. No one had come to collect him for his art of deception, this could only mean the young lord accepted his apology.

"Finn, do sit up straight," Kurt's step-mother ordered of her son quietly. Kurt's eyes briefly went to the 17 year old boy who was to wed in three days. Never before had he seen a man so large, it was rather frightening. The boy at least dressed as his station even if his mannerisms said otherwise, but what could Kurt expect of a young Baron? No, that was rather rude, even in his own thoughts.

A ring from the bell at the door, caught the families attention. Burt stood from his seat saying he would greet the visitor, expecting it to be Lord Fabray. The doors creaked open, their iron handles clanking against their holdings. A soft voice drifted through the home, followed by a gruff reply from Burt. The door was slammed shut with a heart pounding thud, Burt's footstep approaching the dining hall far to quickly.

An envelop was dropped upon the table in front of Kurt, Burt returning to his seat. "The messenger said this arrived for you from France."

Kurt's eyes widened, his heart uproariously pounding against his ribcage as his eyes found Blaine's familiar letters. This time, however, the letter was addressed to 'Young Lord Kurt of the House of Hummel'. He took the letter apprehensively in hand, shaking with fear or anticipation he did not know. "May I read it in my room?"

"You will read it hear," Burt answered.

With a shuddering breath Kurt broke the seal, pulling the parchment from within. He chocked back a chuckle immediately at seeing a change to young Lord Anderson's calligraphy.

Young Lord Hummel

Has my calligraphy not improved? Mademoiselle Laurent was getting quite frustrated with the way I pushed upon the parchment. During the months during which we did not speak I worked tirelessly to correct my calligraphy. Mademoiselle Laurent says I have improved and even father is rather impressed, but I wish to inquiry, what is your view of my calligraphy? I must confess, the flourishes are quite a bit much for my tastes.

I have been in France for near a year and I confess it is rather dull. The countryside is picturesque but I do prefer home. The churches here are beautiful, some more elaborate than others. We, of late, visited Notre Dame de Paris, it's a grand cathedral, far more so than any I've seen. They spoke of refurbishment of the sanctuary under his majesty's vow, I know not if this is a current development or merely future talk. I confess I was rather distracted by the elaborate beauty within. Perhaps someday you, yourself, can visit this cathedral.

Ah, but I have runaway with my words yet again. You are no doubt inquisitively staring at my words wondering of your last letter. I did receive, and I respectfully decline any form of apology you may give. You see it was that deception that allowed us to meet, Young Lord Hummel and I can't not regret such a fate. Even if you are not a maiden I still wish to value you as an acquaintance. I have but one request and that is that you do not accept the betrothal to Lady Brittany.

I know not of a sinful attraction you may have, but I do wish you not marry for obligation. Allow for your elder step-brother to secure your holdings. I request, Young Lord Hummel, that you live for yourself and not marry a young lady you described as no more articulate than a wench. Furthermore, I wish to extended the invite to correspond with me yet again. Even if you wish only to say 'good morrow' I do hope to hear from you again.

Hoping your wit has not passed

Blaine Anderson

Kurt beamed down upon the letter, it was all he could think to do. "Young Lord Anderson wishes to keep my correspondence despite my deception," he informed his father.

"Oh? He so easily dismissed this? Perhaps Young Anderson has the sinful attraction."

"I mean not to speak out of turn, dear husband, but if Kurt has lived his early years as a maiden, perhaps having a male acquaintance will benefit him. Kurt is also quite interested in France is he not? Young Lord Anderson's connection could prove beneficial to Kurt. Young Lord Anderson has been to court, has he not?"

Kurt turned to his step-mother, seeing the woman in a new light as he nodded his head. "When he first arrived in France Mademoiselle Laurent presented her wards at court."

"Dear husband, this could prove beneficial. Perhaps one day Young Lord Anderson can introduce Kurt at court. You must also consider that our current Queen Consort is of France. I understand your fears of crimes against our lord, but Kurt has not shown to be blasphemous."

Burt looked to his Lady wife before turning back to his son. "You went against my role as your father and sent a second correspondence to that young man after I ordered you to cease. For this you must face punishment."

"I understand father."

"You will miss Finn and Lady Quinn's union."

"Father!" Kurt wanted to protest, but quieted immediately. At least he would not receive a lashing for his disobedience. "I understand, father."

-o-o-o-

Young Lord Hummel

I must confess, I laughed quite heartily at your chagrin with your father's punishment. You seem to quite favor weddings. Is there a reason behind this? I am merely inquisitive, if you do not wish you do not need to answer.

I was glad to hear that you have requested a stay of courtship with Lady Brittany, I do hope my words gave you the courage to do so. Now I must say I am at a loss as what else to scribe. Your last letter merely expressed your chagrin of your punishment. Perhaps you are angered with me for being the cause?

Ah, and if I am remembering properly, your 12th birth anniversary is approaching. If I have re-read our letters correctly you last stated your birth anniversary as being mid falling season. If so I wish you early tidings for this birth anniversary and perhaps I can find you a gift in the market.

Until next correspondence

Blaine Anderson

-o-

Young Lord Anderson

I apologize for allowing my mouth to run away with me due to my annoyance. From what I can gather from step-mother the affair was of average gathering. Though I had chance to view my future step-sister before the union. She was a vision in lavender, he beautiful golden locks were braided with flowers that she allowed me to choose. I choose simple wild sunflowers as they complimented her dress quite nicely, though I fear they did fad into the color of her hair.

Aside from this the usual has been going on, nothing of great consequence. Father recently purchased a piglet at market to raise for slaughter, I named him Irving. Father says I am becoming attached to Irving but Irving is a gentle piglet, and rather neat as far as the animals are concerned.

I thank you for your good tidies of my birth anniversary, but you need not purchase me a gift. You have already given me something much greater than a gift or courage. Rather you have given hope.

Soon to be a year older

Kurt Hummel

-o-

Young Lord Kurt

I have found the perfect gift for your birth anniversary, though I know not when it will arrive. Do take proper care of this gift, I will like to see it upon my return. Perhaps this gift will free your mind of thoughts of Irving, and the fate the young swine is destined for. I would hate to receive a saddened letter from you.

Glad to have given you hope

Blaine Anderson

-o-

Young Lord Blaine

A Bird! He is a bird! A beautiful yellow canary! Where ever did you find such an animal! Father eyed him skeptically but allowed the bird to remain. The bird is rather silent and rather tidy. I greet him every morning and he ruffles his feathers at me in greeting. Truly I believe father is allowing me to keep him so I am not distraught once Irving has grown.

I apologize, I have run out of things to say for I am just so enthralled by this young bird. The name 'Pavarotti' was carved into his holding. Is this the bird's name? Perhaps his sellers? This name does not sound French, where did you come across such a bird?

Thoroughly excited

Kurt Hummel

-o-

Young Lord Kurt

You are quite astute. The seller had recently come from Venice, Italy in hopes to sell quite a variety of animals, ranging from birds to swine, he even had a cattle. His French was quite horrible, but yet endearing. His English was heavily accented but at least far more comprehensible than his French.

If you wish to name him Pavarotti, I do not see the harm. Though I will be giving young Pavarotti a visit when I return.

For I fear our letters are shortening, would you care to tell me what your favorite food is?

Endlessly curious

Blaine Anderson

-o-

Blaine stared at Kurt's letter repeatedly. It would be another fortnight before he received Kurt's next response. In that wait he re-read Kurt's last two letters, smiling at his excitement, the life in his tone.

Opening his writing journal Blaine turned to a letter that had been started and scratched out. He removed the page carefully, and held it up towards the small candle flame. Shaking his head he stood from his desk chair, going to the fireplace and kneeling before it. His housemates were currently out which left him without question. Reading the words one last time, he closed his eyes releasing the page into the flames.

Re-opening his eyes he watched the parchment curl into ash. Faintly he saw his own words before they were devoured by the hungry flames.

'Young Lord Kurt

I think I may have fallen in love with you.

Blaine'

-chapter 4 end-


End file.
